


A Change in the Winds

by TheresaWritesStuff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 12:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheresaWritesStuff/pseuds/TheresaWritesStuff
Summary: Three years after the events of Sherrinford, Eurus has made great strides in her recovery. However, she can not continue to improve if she remains isolated from the world, prompting Sherlock to move her in to Baker Street. Under these new circumstances, can Eurus earn a new start? And even more importantly, can she earn forgiveness?





	A Change in the Winds

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine

It had been three years since the events of what became known, at least in Mycroft’s files, as the “Sherrinford Incident.” In those three years, the Holmes brothers agreed that they’d seen their sister make great strides towards a healthier mental state…Which is why they were so surprised to receive a call from her psychiatrist requesting a meeting with the both of them.

“I’m afraid we’ve done all that we can do for your sister here at Sherrinford,” Dr. Clark admitted.

“Meaning?” Sherlock asked, eyes never leaving his phone screen as he fielded texts to Lestrade about the details of their latest case.

“Meaning, Sherlock, that I believe Eurus can make no further progress if she continues to be isolated from the world as she is now,” Dr. Clark explained, folding her hands on her desk with a pointed glance at the detective.

“Do you really suppose it would be possible for her to assimilate back into society?” Mycroft replied, skeptically.

“You’ve been privy to our sessions with Eurus, Mister Holmes. I’ve followed your instructions, complied with every screening you’ve required of me and my staff until we were all certifiably ‘not brainwashed’ to your satisfaction.  You’ve worked with me throughout every step of her treatment and you’ve seen the progress that she’s made. What do you think?” Dr. Clark smiled politely at the elder Holmes.

Mycroft sighed and leaned back thoughtfully in his chair.

“A chaperoned house arrest of sorts on a trial basis, two weeks should be sufficient to start, full security detail at all times, and we shall maintain her regularly scheduled appointments with you,” he conceded.

“Naturally. The goal is to ease her as gently back into the world as possible,” Dr. Clark agreed. “And I’ve come to rather enjoy our sessions if I do say so.”

“It’s settled then.” Mycroft stood and straightened his jacket as he pulled out his mobile. “I’ll have my assistant prepare a room for Eurus at my estate by this afternoon.”

“Only one problem with your plan, brother mine,” Sherlock piped in cheekily. “She won’t agree to it.”

“Are you suggesting that our sister does not, in fact, want to eventually leave this facility?” Mycroft quirked an eyebrow at his brother.

“Not at all.” Sherlock smirked. “She’ll just detest the idea of living with you.”

“And I suppose you think Baker Street is a better alternative?” Mycroft asked incredulously.

“Naturally. Mummy and Father are not equipped to handle her, so they’re out of the question. Your estate is far too isolated for this little experiment to prove anything useful, aside perhaps from giving you a headache. Baker Street allows her to be in the city while still being monitored. A space of her own instead of trading one cage for another. And besides that,” Sherlock added with a grin “She likes me better than you.”

“Is that so?” Mycroft stared his brother down.

“Yep,” Sherlock replied, popping the ‘p’ to further annoy him.

“Perhaps we should ask Eurus what she would like to do,” Dr. Clark suggested gently, breaking the silence that hung between the two of them.

“Fine,” Mycroft conceded coolly.

“Good,” Sherlock agreed.

Dr. Clark rolled her eyes as she smiled to herself and led the two men to Eurus’s room, wondering if the Holmes brothers would ever out grow their childish bickering.

Dr. Clark knocked gently on the door before poking her head in.

“Eurus, your brothers are here to see you,” she greeted cheerfully, allowing the men entrance.

Eurus’s cell had been converted into a more welcoming living space as she had progressed throughout the years. First a few abstract paintings she’d created in therapy on the walls, then a stand for her music, and eventually the glass panel had been removed in favor of a sitting area for visitors.

Eurus sat now on her bed, her dark hair plaited neatly to the side, her eyes bright as she continued scribbling out her latest sonata.

“Hey,” she replied, half interestedly welcoming her brothers, not bothering to look up at them.

Mycroft stepped forward. “Eurus... Dr. Clark and we have been discussing—“

“I choose Sherlock’s place,” Eurus interrupted, having deduced what he was going to say.

“Told you I was her favorite,” Sherlock teased under his breath.

“Weeellll I don’t know if I’d go that far.” Eurus smiled. “Baker Street has better snacks.”

Mycroft chuckled at his sister’s gentle ribbing of their brother. “I suppose that settles it. Sherlock, I suggest you inform Mrs. Hudson that she’s about to have a new tenant.”

 

 

Sherlock was enjoying the quiet of the car ride back to Baker Street and the chance to sort through his mind palace for details on Eurus’s favorite things to have on hand during her stay when he was startled by the ringing of his mobile. 

Looking down at the caller I.D. he saw that it was John.

“What?” he asked irritably of his former flat mate.

“I spoke to Mrs. Hudson,” John informed him, his tone measured as it only was when he was at his most angry.

“And?” Sherlock asked.

“You’re bringing Eurus to live at Baker Street?” John demanded.

“That was the plan,” Sherlock replied, looking out the window.

“I can’t believe this,” John muttered. “After all that she put us through, you’re just going to let her waltz through the door.”

“John…” Sherlock rubbed his temple.

His friend’s even tone was slipping as he continued, “Do you not remember what she did to us? She _tortured_ us, Sherlock! Nearly drowned me in a well, while she toyed with you. Not to mention all those people she murdered in cold blood!”

Sherlock could almost see John pacing. “John.”

“A-and you’re just going to let her move in. Next door. To my daughter. To your Goddaughter!”

“She’s gotten better!” Sherlock cut in before his friend could berate him further. “But Dr. Clark says she will not progress any further unless she is properly socialized. She needs this, John. She needs me! I understand that you’re upset, but she’s my family.”

John breathed out a humorless laugh. “And what does that make me and Rosie?”

“John…” Sherlock sighed, shaken by his friend’s words.

John let out a breath. “You know what? Forget it. You’ve obviously made up your mind.”

“John.” Sherlock pleaded.

But John had already hung up.

Sherlock heaved a sigh and slumped back against the seat of the car.

“You can’t blame him.” Mary smiled at him gently. “He hasn’t been a part of these Sherrinford briefings. This is hard for him. He really should have heard it from you.”

“Oh boo-hoo,” Moriarty groused sarcastically in the seat next to her, crossing his arms. “Johnny boy just needs to get over himself.”

Sherlock blinked at the two passengers in the car next to him. “No…you two aren’t really here. You’re both…”

“Mind palace manifestations of your inner conflict personified,” Mary supplied, finishing Sherlock’s sentence.

“I think he was going to say we’re both dead,” Moriarty chuckled, examining his cuticles.

“Oh yes. That too,” Mary agreed with a laugh.

Sherlock hand a hand over his face. “And why are you here?”

“Well your skull is back at Baker Street which, given the traffic, will not be an option as a sounding board for another…what? Half hour?” Moriarty asked, turning to Mary.

“Oh 45 minutes at least.” She nodded.

“Aren’t you supposed to be…smaller? Sitting on my shoulders, or some nonsense like that?” Sherlock asked.

They both shrugged.

“This is easier,” Mary replied.

“Less strain on the old neck of yours,” Moriarty added. “Is that a grey hair I see?”

“Leave him be,” Mary reprimanded. “I think you know what you need to do now.”

“Throw Eurus a rager? I can make you a mixtape,” Moriarty suggested.

“I should apologize to John for not including him in this decision,” Sherlock sighed resolutely.

Mary nodded triumphantly. “Good boy.”

Moriarty rolled his eyes.

“But first…” Sherlock added, dialing on his mobile.

Mary smiled as Moriarty stuck his tongue out at her like a child.

 “Molly! Glad I caught you,” Sherlock greeted as the phone picked up. “Do you have a minute?”

 


End file.
